Little John And The Giants :: :: University of Virginia Library

Little John And The Giants

A Dramatic Opera

Brooke, Henry (1703?-1783)

LITTLE JOHN AND THE GIANTS:

ACT II.

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ACT II.

SCENE I.

Before the House of the Goods.
Enter Dorothy Good, Jack Good, and Grace Good.
Dor.
Ah! Jacky, Jacky, these are fine romances—
That little noddle is so full of fancies!
Unfeather'd rambler, whither would'st thou roam,
And straggle, like a callow wren, from home?
A callow wren—no, Jacky!—if thou'lt part,
Thou'lt be a hawk, to tear thy mother's heart.

Jack.
Good mammy, peace!—no more your son importune;
In-sooth, I must abroad to seek my fortune:
For once a witch foretold, as witches can,
That Little Jack was made—for a great man.

Dor.
My Jacky, all ambition is a snare,
Twisted by danger, shame, and care!
Nor let false hopes thy childish fancy cheat;
Content is happy!—Good is Great!

AIR VI.

Tune. “If all the Fair Maids.”

[I.]

Ambition, like Jack-o-the-Lanthorn bewitches;
Ambition, like Jack-o-the-Lanthorn bewitches;
And leads you, benighted, through dirt and through ditches.
Dol, dol, &c.

II.

Your griping for gold, a beggarly itch is;
Your griping for gold, a beggarly itch is;
And Virtue, tho' humble, looks down upon riches.
Dol dol, &c.

III.

Your great men, and state men, the higher their pitch is,
Your great men, and state men, the higher their pitch is;
By climbing, the broader they shew us their breeches.
Dol, dol, &c.

Jack.
Dear mammy, cease all further qualms and queries;
This frolick was not bred of my vagaries:
Then, since it must be told you, hear a wonder—

'Tis Heaven, that tears thy child and thee asunder.
The three last nights as to my bed I hied me,
Methought, an ancient madam stood beside me;
Her kerchief with her eyes and nose was slubber'd,
Her gown was tatter'd, and her cheeks were blubber'd:
“Jacky,” she cried—and sure she was no other—
“I am, my child, thy true and loving mother!
“My farm that was so fenced, is run to ravage!
“My bleating flocks devour'd by Giants savage.
“Up, Jacky, up, have at the raggamuffins!
“For thee I've chosen, to give these blades their buffings.”

Dor.
Alack, one of these lubbards would not think ill,
To lay your tiny rougeship in a wrinkle.

Jack.
Fear them not, mammy: bulk gives place to art,
And strength and cunning to a valiant heart.
And better you have taught than school or college,
That “simple goodness is the shrewdest knowledge.”

AIR VII.

Tune. “There was three valiant Welshmen.”
Thro' all the world, your Davids still have pull'd Goliahs down;
And little were your mighty men, your men of great renown.

Though tiney be your lap-dog, he'll chase a lusty flock;
And Giants to your Jacky, are but ganders to a cock.

Dor.
Well, Jacky, well, I must not say thee nay:
When thy dear country bids, away, away!—
I will but stop, since things are past redressing,
To bring my child his cake, and give a mother's blessing.

[Exit.
Jack.
Bless me, the girl has plenty of salt water!—
Why does my Gracey whimper?

Grace.
'Tis no matter—

Jack.
My sweeting sister, take this kiss; and take
The prizes that I won at our last wake—
These letter'd garters, ribband, rose, and thimble,
With all the cash I have, one silver nimble!
And soon I'll bring a baby-house, and dollies;
A husband too, with other pretty follies.

Grace.
I care not for your trumpery; for they
Have nought for me, who take their love away.
Go to your folk of falsehood and formality,
Your masque of stately mummers, court, and quality!
But soon, mayhap, you'll wish, my little mister,
You'd staid and play'd hot-cockles with your sister.

AIR VIII.

Tune. “Dole and woe fa'our Cat.”

I.

For often my mammy has told,
And sure she is wondrous wise,
In cities that all you behold,
Is a fair, but a faithless disguise.

II.

That the modes of a court education,
Are train-pits and traitors to youth;
And the only fine language in fashion,
A tongue that is foreign to Truth.

III.

Where Honour is barely an oath,
Where knaves are with noblemen class'd;
Where Nature's a stranger to both,
And Love an old tale of times past.

IV.

Where laughter no pleasure dispenses,
Where smiles are the envoys of art;
Where joy lightly swims on the senses,
But never can enter the heart.

V.

Where hopes and kind hugs are trepanners,
Where Virtue's divorced from Success;
Where cringing goes current for manners,
And worth is no deeper than dress.

VI.

Where Favour creeps lamely on crutches,
Where Friendship is nothing but face;
And the title of duke, or of duchess,
Is all that entitles to Grace.

Jack.
Sister, with thee I could for ever live—
I go not to gain happiness, but give!

AIR IX.

Tune. “Lochaber.”
Jack.

[I.]

Farewell to my Gracey, my Gracey so sweet!
Though parting be painful, how pleasing to meet!
Thy Jacky will languish and look for the day,
That shall kiss the dear tears of his sister away.
Though honour in groves of tall laurel should grow,
And fortune in tides should eternally flow;
Nor honour, nor fortune, shall Jacky detain,
But he'll come to his sister, his Gracey again.

II.

Again at our door, in the morning of spring,
To see the sun rise, and hear goldfinches sing;
To rouse our companions and queens of the May
In copses to gambol, in meadows to play
At questions and forfeits, all ranged on the grass;
To gather fresh chaplets, each lad for his lass;
To whoop-and-to-hide, and play tag on the plain,
Thy Jack shall return to his Gracey again.

III.

Or alone in his Gracey's sweet company blest,
To feed the young Robins that chirp on the nest;
To help at her medicines and herbs for the poor,
And welcome the stranger that sits at the door;
At night o'er our fire, and cup of clear ale,
To hear the town news and the traveller's tale;
To smile away life till our heads they grow hoar,
And part from my sheep and my Gracey no more

SCENE II.

Enter Dorothy Good.
Dor.
This little loaf, with my large blessing, take.

Jack.
Your blessing is yet sweeter than your cake!

Dor.
This too receive—within this narrow chest,
Lies the best wealth that ever man possest;
By your own ancestors the prize was won,
And handed down, improved, from sire to son.
It is, my child, a strange and precious store—
The more imparted 'twill increase the more;
A store, my son, which thousands will admire,
Yet none will envy, and but few desire.

Jack.
Thanks, thanks!—The rising tear begins to flow;
My heart grows heavy, and my steps move slow!
My mother dear—my sister fair—to you
Farewell at once—Adieu!

Dor.
Adieu!

Grace.
Adieu!

[Exit Jack.

AIR X.

Tune. “Oroo Dremendoo.”
Grace.

I.

O now, with my Jacky, my own sweet boy,
Farewell to the tasteless appearance of joy!
To a heart so o'erladen, all sorrows are meet,
Misfortunes are welcome, and mourning is sweet.

II.

Away ye companions of daily delight,
And pastimes that gently could steal on the night;
Away ye fond sports of the wake and the fair;
Your pleasures are vanished—no Jacky is there!

III.

Of the ball, and the hurling, the dance, and the race,
His skill was the victor, his person the grace;
The maids they would kiss from his head to his knee,
And wish they had all been his sisters like me.

IV.

In the streams and the woodlands, the green and the glade,
Where we frisk'd with our kids, with our lambkins we play'd,
Say your Jacky was here, and your Jacky was there—
But where is my Jacky now—tell me, O where?

V.

Thus ev'ry dear scene of my former delight,
To my mind still recalls him—but not to my sight:
The trees they all droop, and the meadows look lone;
For whily, lilee, lilee loo—my Jacky is gone!—

Dor.
Come, Gracey, come—pluck up a little courage;
Grief never boil'd a simple mess of porridge.
Let's to our task, my girl, our wheels within;
There weep thy bellyful—but weep and spin!

AIR XI.

Tune. “Grania Mucil.”
Dor.

I.

Though passions contend, and afflictions storm,
And shake the frail state of our human form;
If Virtue the base of our pile sustain,
Affliction shall rage and assault in vain.

II.

The path for the steps of all mortals made,
Is simply to follow where Truth shall lead;
Nor thou from its rectitude turn aside:
The rest, let hereafter and Heaven provide.

[Exeunt.

SCENE III.

A Lawn.
Jillian Justice, seated as Queen of May, and crowned with flowers; her Nurse attending with her balance and sword; Shepherd and Shepherdesses alternately ranged on either hand, the lower Shepherds and Shepherdesses advance strewing flowers.
1st Shep.
Prepare—and, where our Queen shall tread,
All nature's flowery carpet spread!

2d Shep.
Pansy, and Rose, and Asphodel,
Daughters of every dale and dell.

3d Shep.
Not the forced growth of garden plots,
Of reeking beds, and artful knots—

4th Shep.
But such as willing sweetness yield,
Flowers of the spontaneous field!

1st Shep.
Jillian, fairest Queen, advance!
Lead the happy hours in dance.

2d Shep.
In your scales our seasons weigh,
And make our every month a May!

Jillian advances, while a Shepherd and Shepherdess sing alternately on either hand.

AIR XII.

Tune. “I have sixpence under my thumb.”

I.

How sweet the melodious birds that sing!
How sweet the treasure the zephyrs bring,
Light wafted from each odoriferous wing,
That winnows the breast of flowery spring!

CHORUS.
How sweet, &c.

II.

How sweet the showers with balm replete!
The fawns that frolick, and lambs that bleat!
But O, above all, though all should meet,
Our Jilly, our Queen of sweets, is sweet!

CHORUS.
How sweet the showers, &c.

Jill.
Thanks, gentle friends!—enjoy your happy state,
Below the envy of the Small, above the griefs that rack the Great.
For what's the pomp of courts, but irksome din?
Without, all glitter; but all gloom, within—
Their broadest pride, but folly more display'd;
Their state but guilt, on care-press'd purple laid!
'Tis here that Nature to true bliss invites,
And sweetens toil beyond all town delights.
In every rural stream pure pleasure flows,
Buds in the trees, and in the blossom glows;
Thrills every sense; and more than sense refined,
Enters in peace, and sinks upon the mind.

AIR XIII.

Tune. “To you fair Ladies on the Land.”

I.

Jill.
The world, a faithless ocean! tost
By passion's stormy wind,
Is spread with spoils of thousands lost,
The wreck of humankind;
Where all the freight their vessels bear,
Is but a wilful weight of care!—
With a fal, tal, &c.

CHORUS.
Where all the freight, &c.

II.

For what can Reason's feeble hand,
Before the helm perform,
Where he can spy nor port, nor land,
To scape from stress or storm—
Where Hope, amid the raging main,
His anchor casts—but casts in vain?—
With a fal, tal, &c.

CHORUS.
Where hope, &c.

III.

O turn, misguided wight, return,
To us who smile on shore;
To us, who yet your errors mourn,
Your safety who implore!
Your forfeit peace with us renew,
Who shed no tears—except for you!—
With a fal, tal, &c.

CHORUS.
Your forfeit peace, &c.

Jill.
The bustling world a deal of wisdom vaunts;
Yet few their wishes know, and none their wants:

And lest those wants or wishes should abate,
Invention labours hard new wants and wishes to create.

AIR XIV.

Tune. “Twang dillo dee.”

I.

Jill.
But we to Nature who adhere, nor further bliss require;
To lop the root of all our care, we lop our vain desire.
Twang dillo dee.

CHORUS.
To lop the root, &c.

II.

We ask no cynic law, nor saw, nor scrolls of bearded men;
For Nature's the most learned book, that Innocence can ken.
Twang dillo dee.

CHORUS.
For Nature's the, &c.

III.

To baffle want, and sweeten toil, from debt and danger free,
We learn instruction from the ant, and the industrious bee.
Twang dillo dee.

CHORUS.
We learn, &c.

IV.

From dogs we learn unfailing faith, affection from the dove;
And from the hen that guards her chick, a parent's circling love.
Tang dillo dee.

CHORUS.
And from the hen, &c.

V.

And last, we to All bounteous Heaven our daily tribute yield,
Taught by the fragrant incense breathed from every grateful field.
Twang dillo dee.

CHORUS.
Taught by the fragrant, &c.

Jill.

Now every maid to every lover dear,
And every lover kind and true, draw near!
Give me the beam that shall their fates decide,
And poize in equal scale the future groom and bride.
[Jillian takes the Scales.
Your favours! come—
[And weighs the Favours.
Here Will and Nan, you see,
In gifts and graces to a hair agree.
Hodge here is old, but wise; and Nell, his bride,
Young, fair, and vain, and greatly wants a guide:
The beam, observe, hangs fair!—
Did fortune weigh, Hob's favours would prevail;
But Doll, by nature rich, makes light her lover's scale:
Her choice is free!—
Moll is cross-shaped, and Tom a comely youth;
But Moll is beautified by love and truth:
Thomas discern, and well respect your bride;
The beam, observe, turns wholly to her side!—

Happy couples, hand in hand,
Bind the soft, the sacred band!
Long and silken be the thread,
The fates shall spin the hour you wed!
Be the flame as chaste as bright,
That shall your nuptial taper light;
And may each sun's returning ray,
Awake you to a joyful day!

AIR XV.

Tune. “You Commons and Peers.”
Jill.

I.

The time to beguile,
Now listen a while,
And I'll shew you an excellent plot;
How husband and wife,
Through the crosses of life,
May be held by the true lover's knot.

II.

As mortals are frail,
Let indulgence prevail,
And all mutual infirmities blot;
Let the husband atone
His wife's faults by his own,
And I'll vouch for the true lover's knot.

III.

My Dolly so bright,
Should your Hob, over night,
Be surprised by his pipe or his pot;
Let him sleep his dose out,
Nor by scolding and pout,
Strive to loosen the true lover's knot.

IV.

When your wives they grow grey,
And their graces decay,

Of all mortal beauty the lot;
Remember their youth,
And, by friendship and truth,
Make eternal the true lover's knot!

SCENE III.

A Shepherd enters in haste.
Shep.
Fly, princess, fly!
“The Giants come!”—is all the cry.
They spare nor sex, nor age;
Fire, sword, and lust, throughout the country rage.

Jill.
Give me my sword—
Fear not, my friends; but straight release
That dreadful weapon from its case!
[Shep. attempt to draw it.
Alas! your trembling hands declare your fright.
To draw that blade,
With terror and with truth inlaid,
Demands a steady arm, an heart upright.

Shep.
“They come, they come!”—is all the cry.
Fly, fly!—

[They throw down the sword, and all run out except Jillian and Nurse.

SCENE IV.

The Three Giants enter, attended by Grandees.
Gal.
Our prize is here!—she's found, she's found!

Bow down, my brothers, to the ground—
To Justice fair, with me your homage pay,
And worship, though you can't obey.

[They all kneel.
Jill.
Arise, my lord—
Your captive scorns this servile shew.
Throughout eternity, we know
Each other for a foe.

[Giants rise.
Gal.
Ha!—there, I ween, our second prize,
The subject of our Father's terror, lies!
Uncase that blade, my brother Wrong;
For though thine intellect be weak, thine arm, I know, is strong!

Blund.
It will not yield—in vain I try.

Gal.
Let Violence his force apply.

Rum.
Nor I.—

Gal.
Give me the sword—to Power, I knew,
The mighty task alone was due!

Rum.
Nor you!—

Gal.
Psha—'tis a paltry wooden toy,
Glewed to the sheath to grace some boy!
Such baubles can't our courage awe;
For what this arm has fail'd to force, no arm on earth can draw!

[Throws away the sword—Nurse takes it up.
Gal.
My brothers, bear the captive of my power,
With all respect, to our enchanted tower;
And let such due attendance on her wait,
As best becomes our honour, and her state.
[Exeunt Rum. Blund. Jill. and Nurse.
Thus far success our conquering arms has crown'd,
And our bold brows with fragrant laurels bound!

Like gods we've past o'er ev'ry stop and stay,
That Law could raise, or peevish Patriots lay;
O'erturn'd their moralizing mounds by might,
And proved, to Power, that every road is right.

AIR XVI.

Tune. “Dainty Davy.”
Gal.
Howe'er dry hypocrites may aim,
To dash with blame,
And brand with shame,
Our deeds of fame;
They act the same,
Though on a slyer plan, sir,
But you, and you, and he, and he,
Must all agree,
That, when you see
A chap like me,
Bold, frank, and free,
You've found your honest man, sir.—

END OF THE SECOND ACT.